


In the Name of House Targaryen

by morethanjustpretty



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Cousins, Dubious Consent, F/M, Resolved Sexual Tension, Romance, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-13
Updated: 2017-01-01
Packaged: 2018-08-14 19:21:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 16,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8025919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morethanjustpretty/pseuds/morethanjustpretty
Summary: Jon marries and beds Sansa in a bid to keep her from Petyr Baelish.





	1. 1

“Who brings this woman?” Lord Usher asked.

“I do, Bran Stark of House Stark, Lord of Winterfell, Warden of the North” Bran said from his seat beside the weirwood tree in the godswood.

“And who takes this woman as his?” Lord Usher asked.

“I Jon Targaryen, of House Targaryen, King of the North, take this woman,” Jon said clearly.

A loud banging could be heard at the gate to Winterfell and all the participants jumped.

“Do you accept this man?” Lord Usher asked quickly.

Sansa looked at Jon, her eyes saucers.

The banging at the gate got louder.

“Sansa,” Jon coaxed.

“I do,” Sansa said. “I Sansa Stark, of House Stark, take Jon Targaryen a husband. ”

Jon quickly threw his cloak over her and fastened it at her neck. The cloak she had hastily stitched the Targaryen emblem to earlier that day.

He kissed her quickly on the lips.

A cheer could be heard outside the gates and a smash.

“It is done,” Lord Usher said.

“Sign that document, all of you!” Jon ordered as Lady Mormont placed a scroll on a log and took up a quill to sign. Others gathered around to do the same.

Jon grabbed Sansa by the hand and ran with her through the godswood. He gripped her hand fiercely as they mounted the steps. More smashing could be heard. More cheers and shouts.

He ran down the closest hallway and into a room where several women and one man were already waiting for them.

“Jon,” Sansa huffed as they heard a familiar voice calling his name. A voice they hoped would not be in the courtyard so soon.

Jon pushed her back into the bed and threw her dress up to her hips, releasing her small clothes and dropping his own breaches frantically.

Another call of his name. Followed by hers. Horses.

“I’m sorry for this,” Jon said before he plunged his cock into her dry opening and heaved into her again and again until he spilled inside if her with a groan. Even his seed seemed angry and rushed.

They heard boots in the corridor coming toward them. Jon pulled out of her and looked to the witnesses who all nodded that the consummation had been complete.

He reached for his sword and kicked his pants, that were still about his ankles, away. Jon took a defensive stance with sword at the ready before Sansa. He was only in his tunic but ready to fight.

The door flung open and Sansa pushed her skirts down over herself, suddenly aware of how exposed she was.

Petyr Baelish walked in with two soldiers and took the scene in before him.

“I have married and claimed this woman as mine. She’s is under the protection of House Targaryen, Winterfell and the King of the North,” Jon said as he watched more of his men, Wildlings, pile into the room after Petyr Baelish.

“Your aunt has given her to me,” Petyr said as he held up a scroll.

“Sansa wasn’t hers to give,” Jon said, never relaxing his stance.

“And consummation?” Petyr asked the witnesses.

They all nodded and he sighed.

“I didn’t think you had it in you to take your sister, honor being such a Stark trait,” Petyr said snidely.

“She’s not my sister,” Jon said through gritted teeth. “And I’d do anything to protect her from a twisted old man such as yourself.”

“And so you married her and fucked her to keep her from my grasp,” Petyr surmised with an evil grin. “There’s more Targaryen in you then I thought.”

“Get out of this castle, in the name of House Targaryen, I order you,” Jon said with force.

“With all your forces scattered after battle, I could easily slaughter every….”

“You could, but then my Aunt would seek vengeance as I am the only Targaryen who can produce an heir,” Jon said clearly. “She may not have thought anything of giving Sansa to you, but I assure you her feelings will not be so kind when you’ve killed her heir and his new bride. ”

Petyr sighed and looked beyond Jon toward Sansa.

“I would have treated you like my Queen,” Petyr said to Sansa. “Not fucked you like a whore.”

Petyr looked at Jon, his implication clear.

“Get out!” Jon commanded.

Petyr bowed to the pair of them and walked out the door.

“Make sure they all leave,” Jon ordered Tormond.

Tormond nodded and followed Lord Baelish.

Jon lowered his sword and waited for everyone to leave the room before he turned to face his bride, his cousin, his sister, his wife.

“It is done,” Jon said as he looked at her.

“That it is,” Sansa said as she eyed him strangely. “But what do we do, now?”


	2. 2

After everyone left and shut the door behind them, Jon sat on a stool staring at his hands and not saying a word. It was unnerving for both of them. Sansa started by fixing her dress, smoothing out the wrinkles and trying to sit primly on the bed in the face of an uncertain future. Then she ran her fingers through her hair, trying to think of words that would somehow ease the situation. 

Finally, she stood from the bed and, seeing her small clothes on the floor, quickly reached down and pocketed them in her dress. She could feel his seed seeping out of her netherlands and needed to take care of herself promptly.

Sansa looked toward the corner of the room and saw a bowl with water and a cloth, but she was not going to clean herself in front of him.

“Jon?” Sansa asked, breaking the silence in the room.

He jumped in his seat at his name and looked up at her for the first time.

“I need to go back to my rooms,” Sansa said as she looked at his pained expression.

“Right,” he said rising and walking to the door.

“You need pants,” Sansa reminded him. 

He stopped dead in his tracks and turned to look at her; his face ashen.

“I said I’d never let him touch you again, and I’ve…” Jon started.

Sansa sighed at his words. What he said was true and it also wasn’t. 

“He won’t ever touch me again,” Sansa conceded. “And neither will Lord Baelish.”

Jon threw the sword that he was still grasping across the room startling her. He then let out a very Northern admonishing grunt. 

“The first words out of my mouth to you were an apology for taking advantage of you,” Jon said as he looked at her with a pained expression. 

“There was no time,” Sansa said as she walked toward him, it was getting more uncomfortable and wet between her legs. “As it was, it was barely done.”

Jon turned from her and angrily ran his hand through his hair.

“I’m so sorry, Sansa,” Jon huffed. “I’m so incredibly sorry.”

“I know you are,” Sansa said as she walked up behind him. “I am as well.”

Jon pivoted on his heel and looked at her astounded. “What in seven hells do you have to be sorry for? I took you without…”

“We were married,” Sansa interrupted. “I knew what we were going to do in the bedroom right after the ceremony and could have said no.”

“It doesn’t make it right,” Jon sighed.

“No, it doesn’t,” Sansa agreed as she felt a trickle roll down the inside of her right thigh. “And I’m sorry you had to do this, all of this.”

“Sansa,” Jon said as he stepped toward her and looked at her sincerely. “I would do anything to keep you from having to marry that man.”

“That is quite clear now,” Sansa said as she felt more seed escape. 

Jon closed his eyes and felt an incredible amount of shame. “We need to make this right, somehow, Sansa. I need to make this right.”

Sansa gave him a tight-lipped smile and nodded in agreement. 

“For now, you need to put on some pants, and walk me back to my rooms,” Sansa said, squeezing her legs tightly together to stop any further mess.

Jon nodded and quickly pulled on his pants before he retrieved his sword and walked her from the room. If he could do it without burning down all of Winterfell, he would light that room up so he’d never have to be reminded again of what happened there tonight.


	3. 3

The angry raven from the Dragon Queen arrived ten days later while everyone was eating lunch. For ten days Sansa had stayed mostly in her rooms reading and mending, coming out only for meals. For ten days Jon had worked himself to the bone doing repairs around Winterfell, falling asleep each night exhausted and sweaty in his empty bed.

“It’s for you,” Bran said as he handed the Raven he’d just been given to Jon.

Jon exchanged a look with Sansa, one of the only looks they’d shared in the ten days they were married, and took the scroll. It had the Dragon Queen’s seal.

He read the letter silently:

Nephew,

I send my congratulations on your recent and unaanounced marriage to your cousin Sansa Stark. I had wished to discuss other women you may be allied with, but alas, Northerners seem to follow their own path. Lord Baelish requires compensation for his loss and I have bequeathed him with a position in my court. I hope he serves me well. I expect this marriage will be very fruitful as it is your responsibility to produce heirs for our family. I expect an announcement soon, so I can allow this marriage to continue.

Daenerys Targaryen

Jon crumpled the scroll in his hand and stood abruptly from his chair.

“Jon…?” Bran asked.

“I have to see to my horse,” Jon said simply as he walked from the room with the letter still bunched in his hand.

Bran exchanged a look with Sansa. She closed her eyes briefly and rose to follow Jon.

She found him in the stables, walking in with fresh water in buckets for the horses.

“Jon?” Sansa asked, as she approached.

“Please don’t bother about the letter,” Jon said, knowing why she’d come.

“I am bothered by it,” Sansa said as she leaned on a gate. “You are obviously bothered by it. What did the queen command?”

Jon walked past her with buckets sloshing water and said nothing.

“Has she claimed our marriage not valid?” Sansa asked.

“No,” Jon said as he filled a horse’s trough.

“Has she asked for you and I to appear in King’s Landing?” Sansa asked.

“Sansa, just leave it,” Jon sighed as he walked past her with empty buckets.

“I won’t, so you may as well tell me,” Sansa said as she watched him drop the buckets in the corner. 

Jon stood for a long time thinking of the best way to say it. In the end, he retrieved the scroll from his pocket and handed it to her to read.

He paced back and forth as she read. She seemed calm and unbothered by the contents. When she was finished she rolled it back up and handed it to him.

“It’s hard to tell if she means to anul the marraige or have me killed if no heir is produced,” Sansa said honestly.

“Aye,” Jon agreed. “It’s not clear.”

Sansa swallowed hard and took a few steps toward him. 

“It’s the best of the possible outcomes,” Sansa said.

Jon looked at her confused.

“She could have had me killed, or you for that matter,” Sansa said. “But you were less likely because she needs her heirs. She could have had me taken away and allied you with an more apporpriate bride…she could have said her contract with Lord Baelish was signed prior to our marraige and invalidated it, handing me to him. She could have sent dragons…forced us to come to King’s Landing and answer to her…”

“You’ve thought a lot about this,” Jon said as he studied her.

“It’s all I’ve been doing since we wed,” Sansa confessed.

“But Sansa…” Jon started.

“She’s made it quite simple,” Sansa said. “You put a few babes on me to secure the Targaryen throne and she’ll leave us be. As deals arise, it’s a good one.”

“And you are alright with this? It doesn’t bother you that you are being ordered to have children with me?” Jon asked, astonished.

“I knew if she didn’t do any of those other things that children would come, Jon. You had to know that as well,” Sansa said clearly. 

Jon nodded. He couldn’t kid himself into the easy picture of living as they always had, only married on paper. 

“My courses are finished for the month, so we can begin straight away,” Sansa said as if making a list. “You’ll visit me tonight?”

“Tonight?” Jon asked.

“Do you have other plans?” Sansa asked, annoyed.

“No, I just…”

“I’ll see you after dinner then?” Sansa said as she crossed her arms over her chest. 

It was then that Jon noticed her hands were shaking slightly. She wasn’t as confident about this as she appeared. After the little he knew of her history with Ramsay Bolton, he shouldn’t be surprised.

Jon nodded. “Aye, you will.”

Sansa gave him a tight-lipped smile and turned to go when Jon caught her arm. She turned to look at him surprised.

“I won’t hurt you,” Jon said as he looked at her carefully. “Despite our first…encounter…it won’t be like that.”

She swallowed hard and nodded her head slightly. He then let go of her arm and she left the stables.


	4. 4

Jon felt like a green boy as he walked down the hall to her room. He’d been with a woman before and even been with Sansa before, but that doesn’t take away the nervous flip his stomach is doing.

If he’s to be honest with himself, he didn’t think about the bedding when they hatched the plan to marry. For a moment the thought had crossed this mind that it was Sansa, then he had buried it with all other things he didn’t want to think about, deep inside. And the bedding was so quick and under such circumstances that there was no time for the thought of who he was bedding; he hadn’t even looked at her during the act. He had been focusing on his own release and trying to make it happen as quickly as possible. 

And that, for him, was where the shame came in. He had been thinking of Ygritte. Of her naked body surrounding him, of her mouth on his nipple, of her wet cunt, of her beautiful breasts, and of her freedom with her body as he fucked and came into his wife for the first time. Jon closed his eyes as he stood before Sansa’s door. He couldn’t do that again; it wasn’t fair to her and it would just torment him for the rest of his days. No, Ygritte thoughts were necessary in that moment to finish the task, but she couldn’t be the third person in their marriage bed.

Jon raised his hand to knock and paused. He felt the weight of this in his heart and hoped he could, somehow, make it right for them. He hoped what he’d done today was not a silly boyish act that she would laugh at. Jon needed it to be meaningful and as important to her as it was to him. He knew Sansa, knew her quite well, and also knew it could go either way. She could dismiss what he did or she could embrace it. He hoped it was the later.

He tapped his fist against her door and waited for it to open. He’d had a quick bath so he wasn’t offensive and felt his tied tresses dripping down his back. 

“Come in,” Sansa said as the door opened. She was behind it and it seemed as if her voice was a ghost beckoning him inside.

Jon walked inside to the large warm room. He’d spent many an evening here with her, sharing in her fire and her company as she mended things and he talked about the going ons of Winterfell and Wintertown. They had laughed in this room, shared ale in this room, told secrets in this room, and been friends in this room. Now she was his wife and they would need to be lovers in this room.

He looked away from the fire and toward her. She was standing in a nightdress and robe. Her hair was down and her movements looked…skitish.

“I brought some wine,” Jon said as he held up the carafe in his hand.

“Good,” Sansa with a nod before she walked toward a table with cups on it and handed him one.

Jon poured them both a large cup of wine and put the carafe down.

She stood quietly looking at him expectantly. He knitted his eyebrows, was she expecting a toast?

“To a new start,” he said as he raised his glass and she did the same. 

The small smile that graced her lips was promising.

Jon motioned toward the chair she usually sat in and then took one himself in front of the fire.

“You weren’t at dinner,” Sansa said, starting the conversation.

“Aye, I was caught up in a task that took longer than I expected,” Jon said as he looked at her. “Cook made me a plate and I took it to my rooms.”

Sansa nodded.

“I haven’t seen much of you,” Jon said conversationally.

“No, I’ve so busy with…” Sansa started then stopped with a sigh. “I’ve been avoiding you.”

“I gathered that,” Jon nodded with a chuckle.

“It just seemed…easier, for both of us,” Sanas explained.

“It would be, if things were to go back to before,” Jon said as he looked at her. “A couple of weeks of forgetting what happened, and then I’d be back here in your solar talking with you as you sewed.”

“But things aren’t going back to how it was before,” Sansa finished for him.

“Not if we want to keep you from Lord Baelish and me from whatever high ranking bride my aunt sees fit to partner me with,” Jon said, sarcastically.

Sansa chuckled at his sarcasm.

“You don’t want to wed one of the Dornish women?” Sansa asked with a smirk. “I hear they bathe in wine to darken their skin.”

“And sleep with a woman who smells and tastes like soured grapes?” Jon laughed. “I think not.”

Sansa laughed openly at his joke and that made him smile.

Their laughter died and the room quieted.

“We got along well before,” Jon said honestly. “I don’t see why we can’t now.”

Sansa nodded her head in agreement.

“We can remain friends?” Jon asked.

“Friends who fornicate,” Sansa added.

“Friends who are married,” Jon noted. 

She seemed to realize that destinction he was making.

“So, like before, but not?” Sansa asked.

“I don’t want to lose you as my friend because you have become my wife,” Jon explained. “I feel like that is the case since the day we wed.”

Sansa sighed. He was right.

“I think we can,” Sansa said softly. “I hope we can, because I have missed you and I’ve become…”

“Aye,” Jon nodded, she didn’t need to finish her sentence. Their meeting in the stables told him who she had started to become.

Sansa finished the wine in her cup and put it down on the table.

“I know I’ve told you a little about Ramsay…”

Jon nodded, waiting for her to continue.

“And I know I seemed confident about…well, this,” Sansa said as she looked sideways at him. “But Jon, my history with the only man I’ve ever been taken by was just that.”

He looked at her confused.

“Not once did I agree to sleep with him,” Sansa said as she picked at a nail. “Every single time was forced upon me.”

Jon closed his eyes and tried to quell his desire to have the man killed again. He knew, in his heart, that was probably the case, but he hadn’t had it confirmed until just now.

“I’m sorry for that,” Jon said sadly. “And as sorry that on our wedding day…”

“Please don’t…” Sansa stopped him from going further.

Jon sighed and watched her pick at her nail bed.

“I’d like to start again today,” Jon said as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a linen with something inside.

Sansa looked at his hand curiously, but said nothing.

“On our wedding day, I was unable to give you a ring,” Jon said as he unwrapped the linen. “To be honest, I forgot.”

Sansa laughed.

“So I had one made for you today that I hope you’ll agree to wear,” Jon continued. 

He pulled a ring from the linen and held it up to the fire light. Sansa looked at it; the metal in the centre seemed to shimmer.

“It’s two metals,” Sansa said as she reached for the ring.

“I had a blacksmith in Wenn make it,” Jon said as he watched her turn it in her hands and admire it. “He was trained in Qohor and has a Valyrian steel link on his Master chain.”

Sansa looked at him with wide eyes. “So the metal in the centre of the gold, that looks like water, is Valyrian steel?”

“Aye, it is,” Jon smiled at her surprised face. “And apparently it’s harder to forge with gold than I expected, which is why I was absent from dinner.”

“Jon” Sansa said as she read the inside.

“He said it’s a popular custom now to put a name on the inside,” Jon said.

“Where did you get…?” She then stopped talking and covered her mouth with her hand. “Longclaw?”

“I had him shave off a bit to use for the centre,” Jon said, nervously. He hoped she’d understand what that meant about his commitment to her; to their marriage.

She looked at the ring, turning it in her hands for a long time, saying nothing. When she did raise her face to look at him, her eyes were filled with tears.

“Thank you,” she said softly. “I will always wear and treasure it.”

Jon finally released the breath he was holding. That reaction was exactly what he’d hoped for; she understood the meaning.

“Oh and I need to give this back to you,” Jon said as he reached into the linen and handed her another ring. “I had Soule nick it from your things so I could get the sizing right.”

Sansa smiled and took her other ring from his hand, but insterad of leaving it, she grasped his fingers in hers.

“Will you put it on me?” Sansa asked as she stood from her chair.

Jon nodded and stood as well. He took his ring from her hand and, picking up her hand, slipped it onto her finger.

He smiled at her and she smiled back.

“Uh, I have…” Jon said as he stepped back from her and pulled something else out of the linen. 

He held up a larger ring for Sansa to see.

“Yours?” She asked surprised.

“Aye, I had one made for me as well,” Jon said as she took it from him and turning it over in her hand saw it was similar to hers, except her name was inside his ring.

“I’ve never known a man to wear a wedding ring,” she said as she looked toward him for an explanation.

“We need to be partners in this, Sansa, if it’s going to work,” Jon explained. “So as much as you are mine, I am yours.”

Sansa closed her eyes and willed herself not to cry. She had longed to be an equal, a partner, a valued person her entire life as she’d been passed from man to man. Equality hadn’t occurred until just now, and her husband had just given it to her.

When she opened her eyes he was staring at her and seemed to be almost holding his breath.

Sansa took his hand and slipped the ring slowly on. “As much as you are mine, I am yours.”

Jon smiled at her and they both leaned in to kiss.


	5. 5

Sansa lay with him panting above her feeling happy for the first time while this act was performed. 

 

They’d kissed, he’d slowly undressed her, and she had taken the time to peel back his clothing, revealing a Jon she hadn’t known before. He had been gentle, painfully gentle in his ministrations.

He now rocked above her with a happy face and Sansa could see why people enjoyed this act so much.

He leaned down and gave her a sound kiss on the lips and she felt her breath hitch in her throat. There was something quite intimate about sharing a kiss while he took her that made her go soft inside.

She lifted up her arms and wrapped them around his shoulders and he faltered in his action, looking down at her somewhat surprised. 

“This is…you are…I really…” Sansa stammered when words were lost on her tongue.

“It’s very good,” he chuckled as he kissed the tip of her nose. “Are you alright?”

Sansa nodded her head in the affirmative.

“Can I do anything to make it better for you?” Jon huffed..

“No, this is quite good,” Sansa sighed as she felt him twitch inside her. “I like it.”

Jon smiled down at her and started to move again.

Sansa widened her legs and relaxed into the beauty that was this act; the first time she saw it as something beautiful. She felt her head roll back and her neck crane towards the ceiling.

He leaned down and kissed her neck, nipping at the skin and she felt her body release in the most basic of ways. She felt the glide of him inside her, the feeling of his netherlands rubbing up against hers, the slickness of his sweaty skin across hers. 

Sansa felt something inside her building and it scared her, it was an unknown and overwhelming feeling that started in her netherlands and began to slowly spread up her body. 

She placed a firm hand on his shoulder and stopped his motion.

“Are you…what’s wrong?” Jon asked; she could hear the impatience in his voice and knew he was about to spill inside her.

“Nothing,” Sansa shook her head and dropped her hand.

“Sansa?” Jon asked, concerned.

“I just slipped,” Sansa lied.

He nodded his head and then immediately started to grind against her.

Within moments he was grunting above her and sighing as she felt him spill inside her.

Sansa smiled up at him and he down at her.

She waited patiently for him to finish and when he finally came back to himself she tucked some stray hair behind his left ear. 

“Are you okay?” Jon asked.

She nodded in the affirmative.

“It was nice?” Jon asked.

“It was,” Sansa smiled at him before she lifted her head up off the pillow and kissed him on the lips. “Very nice.”

Jon smiled broadly and pulled out from inside her, rolling onto his back beside her.

“Thank you for that,” Sansa said as she took his hand in hers.

He squeezed her hand and turned his head to look at her.

“Thank you as well,” Jon said honestly.

They lay quietly naked next to each other for a long time, regulating their breathing and relaxing into the moment.

“I should go,” Jon said as he sat up in the bed.

“Do you have to?” Sansa asked as she too sat up.

“No, I can stay,” Jon said surprised. “I just thought you’d…”

“I think we…” Sansa mumbled. “I mean only if you want to…”

Jon turned to her and touched her shoulder.

“What do you want Sansa?”

“I think you should move in here,” Sansa said quietly. “But you need to want it as well and…”

“Fine,” Jon said with a small smile. “I’ll get the servants to move my things.”

“Only if you choose,” Sansa added.

“I choose,” Jon said as he sat forward and kissed her cheek. “I choose.”

Sansa smiled at him and lay back down. “Good.”

Jon lay back down beside her and sighed.

“Good,” he said softly.

Sansa reached down and pulled furs up over the two of them. 

“Goodnight, Sansa,” Jon said as he settled into his pillow.

“Goodnight,” Sansa said quietly before she turned away from him and tried to fall asleep.


	6. 6

Sansa woke to an unfamiliar sound and feel; a man snoring beside her and holding her. Ramsay had always taken what he wanted and then left her in a heap on whatever surface he chose. There was no bed-sharing in their marriage, and there was definitely no…cuddling?

Sansa felt his chest rise and fall against her back; she hadn’t moved all night as they slept but Jon had obviously migrated towards her. His head was right behind hers because as he snored he blew a few strands forward above her face and the sound seemed right next to her ear. His one arm was thrown around her middle and his manhood, hard in the morning, was nestled up against her one butt cheek. 

Sansa knitted her eyebrows together. Did she like this? It was strange and almost surreal, but somewhat comforting. It felt incredibly intimate to have all of him pressed against all of her and his cock couldn’t be ignored. But at the same time, for him to be so relaxed in bed with her…so comfortable…that had to be a good thing, was it not? 

Sansa lifted her hand so she could look at the ring he gave her. The same one she could see tucked around her middle, glitting underneath from an opening in the furs. It was beautiful. No ring she’d ever seen before was like it; a piece of Longclaw, Jon’s prized sword, was now with her. Always. 

The word ‘always’ suddenly caused her heart to clench. They were married; truly married. He was her husband…always. As long as the Dragon Queen or Petyr Baelish didn’t have him killed, Jon would be in her life, in her bed…always.

Sansa settled back against his frame. Every morning would be like this one for the remainder of her days…

She felt him jerk his lower body away from hers suddenly. Then his arm started to retract from around her middle.

“I’m sorry, Sansa,” Jon apologized behind her.

She caught his around around her waist and stopped the retraction. She needed him close, but couldn’t bare to face him as she said it.

“Please don’t,” Sansa said softly as she felt his tension drop.

“I thought I was bothering you with…” Jon started.

“I’ve never woken with a man before,” Sansa said quietly. She felt his arm snake back around her centre again.

“It’s quite nice, comforting,” Sansa continued. “I hadn’t known.”

Jon said nothing, but he leaned forward and nuzzled her hair.

“And you don’t have to protect me from your cock,” she said boldly. “I know it’s there.”

Jon sighed behind her and relaxed. His manhood wasn’t pressed into her as before, but she could feel it barely touching her buttocks.

“Men wake up that way most days,” Jon explained.

Sansa quietly nodded. Ramsay would come into her room oftentimes in the morning.

“If you don’t have a woman in your bed,” Sansa asked, rolling onto her back so she could see him. “What do you do with it?”

Jon got up on one elbow and supported his head as he chuckled.

“Well, you can just leave it because it’ll eventually go away,” he explained. “Or you have have a cold washing, that’ll get rid of it. Or you can rub it until it releases.”

Sansa seemed satisfied with this new knowledge of men.

“Which will it be this morning?” Sansa inquired.

Jon looked at her surprised for a moment and then calmed.

“I’ll just wait for it to go away, I guess,” Jon said as he looked down at her breasts. He wanted nothing more then to be back inside her again, but she obviously wasn’t feeling the same way.

“Oh,” Sansa said, sounding disappointed.

“What?” Jon asked, intrigued.

“I just thought you’d want to have another go,” Sansa said as she looked anywhere but at him. 

“Of course I would, it’s just…” Jon said as he leaned forward sightly. “I thought you wouldn’t want to.”

“We are trying to make a babe, are we not?” Sansa asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Aye, we are,” Jon smiled down at her.

“Then I think we should take every opportunity to do that,” Sansa said honestly. “We need to get babe in me as quickly as possible so whenever you…whenever your manhood…”

“Sansa, that can be quite often,” Jon warned her.

Sansa swallowed hard and nodded. “I do know that.”

Jon leaned forward and kissed her lips softly. He was sorry she had that bit of knowledge.

“I’d like it to not just be about when I am ready,” Jon said as he looked into her eyes. “We are a partnership and I’d like you to…express your interest as well. When you want us to bed is as important as when I do.”

Sansa thought about his words for a minute before she spoke.

“I like it at night, before we sleep,” she said.

“Okay, I can do that,” Jon smiled at her.

“And maybe in the morning, because you seem…prepared, and I haven’t washed yet,” Sansa said as she worried a lip. She was fearful he’d think her wanton.

“I can do that as well,” Jon said. He bent forward and started to kiss her lips. She responded well and soon he was laying on top of her, his body flush against hers.

“I think you should choose a time each day as well,” Sansa panted as he pushed himself inside her. 

“Every day is different,” Jon said as he rocked into her. “I couldn’t pick a point when…”

“Surprise me then,” Sansa said, hoping she wasn’t asking too much. 

Jon stopped all motion and looked at her smiling up at him. “I like that.”

Sansa’s smile broadened and he started to move inside her again.


	7. 7

There was no denying that Bran was uncomfortable with their marriage over the next week. He spoke awkwardly with them at dinner and only once joined them in their solar after dinner to talk. When it came time for everyone to go to bed and only Bran left, it became quite clear that everything had changed.

“I don’t like making my brother uncomfortable in his own house,” Jon said as they undressed for bed that night.

“He’s going to be fine, give it time,” Sansa said as she pulled her night dress on. “It was his idea we marry. ”

“Yes, when he thought it would be an innocent marriage it was easy for him to stomach, but now that it’s not…” Jon started as he took off his breaches.

“Jon would you rather we stopped?” Sansa asked her hands on her hips. “See what she does?”

“No,” he admitted as his small clothes fell to the floor. “I don’t want to see what that mad Queen does, nor do I think I could go back to the way things were between us before. ”

“So marriage agrees with you?” Sansa giggled as she walked toward his naked body.

“Aye, it seems to,” he said as he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer.

Sansa smiled at him.

“Does it agree with you?” He asked, unsure.

Sansa looked at him for a moment and smiled. “Third times a charm. ”

Jon laughed. “I wouldn’t know. ”

“Weren’t you and Ygritte technically married by wildling tradition?” Sansa asked.

“I guess, although there wasn’t any ceremony….we shared vows.”

“What were they?” Sansa asked, intrigued.

“I am yours, and you are mine,” Jon said as he tucked a stray hair behind her ear.

Sansa swallowed hard.

“I feel those vows with you,” Sansa said quietly.

Jon nodded and leaned into kiss her. The kiss was passionate and his hands roamed up and inside her night dress and toward her hips. She bent into him and gave into the feelings of passion.

They had slept together each evening and morning and Jon had surprised her several days with a request at different times. He’d taken her in the stables and they’d both left sweaty and covered in hay. He’d walked her up to their rooms right after the noon meal and they’d spent the afternoon in bed. Lastly, he’d bedded her in an empty never-used bedroom that had once been the quarters where Jamie Lannister had stayed.

He now had her small clothes down and was just tickling her southern lips with his fingers when a loud banging at their door jarred them.

“What is it?” Jon demanded, his fingers not leaving her as she nipped at his neck.

“My Lord there’s a girl at the gate who claims to be Arya Stark,” The guard called through the door.

“What?!” Jon asked as he quickly moved away from Sansa toward the door.

“Arya?!” Sansa cried as she ran behind him.

Join whipped open the door to the surprised guard who diverted his eyes from a naked Lord and a Lady in a see through nightgown.

“I’ve woken Lord Stark as well and…” The guard said while looking at the ceiling. 

Join suddenly realized what he was trying not to look at and tucked Sansa in behind him.

“We’ll be right down,” Jon said before he shut the door.

He walked briskly to his breaches and pulled them on quickly while Sansa wrapped a robe around her form and slipped on some shoes. Jon pulled a tunic over his head and threw on his boots.

“Jon…Arya!” Sansa said hopefully.

“I hope it is so,” Jon said as he grabbed her hand and pulled her out of their chambers and possibly toward their sister.


	8. 8

“Open the gate,” Jon ordered as he and Sansa arrived on the battlements. 

“But Lord Stark…” the guard pointed out that Bran wasn’t there to give the order.

“Who am I?!” Jon snapped at him.

“Yes, my Lord,” the guard bowed and gave the order to the men at the gate to open it.

There on the other side, with no horse, no attendant, no guard stood Arya Stark. She looked tired and dirty but there was no denying who she was.

“Arya!” Sansa cried as she and Jon hastily made their way down the steps and toward her.

“Sansa! Jon!” Arya cried as she launched herself toward them.

The three of them smacked together in an all-encompassing hug. Sansa immediately started to cry, Jon held them both tight against him, and Arya trembled in their arms.

After many exclamations and much kissing and hugging they parted. Jon couldn’t take his eyes off her. She had grown, hardened in their years apart. But she was still Arya and that was all that mattered.

“Where have you been?” Sansa asked breathless as she held her sister at arm’s length and looked at her closely.

“That’s a complicated question,” Arya said with a smirk. “And much too long a story for now. I’m famished.”

“Oh gods, of course!” Sansa said as she wrapped an arm around her sister and guided her to the kitchens. “I just…oh Arya!”

“Arya!” Bran called from the battlements with Meera standing at his side.

“Bran!” Arya cried as she let go of Sansa and mounted the steps to see him. She hugged himm fiercely and kissed his face.

“Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North?” Arya teased.

“Aye, but I’m outranked by Jon,” Bran said as he gestured toward Jon standing at the bottom of the stairs.

“Jon?” Arya asked as she turned to look at her brother.

“It’s a longer story,” Bran said. “Are you hungry? TIred?”

“Both!” Arya said enthusiastically.

“Let’s get to the kitchen’s then,” Bran said as he squeezed her hand. “I am so pleased…”

Sansa saw Meera touch his shoulder and looked down at him oddly. It seemed strange in this moment of joy to have such a sad expression, but there it was, on both Bran and Meera’s faces.

“Is Cook still…?” Arya asked as she came back down the stairs.

“No, I’m sorry to say she died a while ago,” Sansa said as they looped arms. “But new Cook is lovely.”

“Come Jon,” Arya said as she extended a hand to him. Jon had stood paralyzed, the realization that more of his family was alive was overwhelming.

“Of course!” Jon said as he took her hand in his and the three of them made for the kitchens.


	9. 9

“So you are our cousin?” Arya asked surprised as they told her Jon’s story.

“Aye, I am,” Jon nodded before he took a drink of ale.

All of the Starks were sitting around a table in the kitchen watching Arya eat everything that was put before her. The poor girl hadn’t eaten in days. Jon and Bran were drinking ale and Sansa was nibbling on some bread.

“And heir to the Iron Throne?” Arya asked.

“True as well,” Jon conceded. 

“But what about the Night’s Watch?” Arya asked.

“I left it to lead the Wildlings, then to take back Winterfell,” Jon explained.

“And beyond the wall?” Arya asked.

“White walkers,” Bran said. “I’ve been up against many myself.”

“Gods!” Arya gasped.

“But you made it back fine!” Arya said as she tore off another hunk of bread.

“Barely,” Bran conceded.

“And I heard in the villages that there was a battle for Winterfell?” Arya asked.

“Aye, against the Bolton’s,” Jon nodded.

“I heard the Starks were back in Winterfell so I came, hoping…”

“We’re here, as are you,” Sansa smiled at her sister and squeezed her hand. “And that makes us so incredibly happy.”

“You are married to Tyrion?” Arya asked.

“How could you…?”

“The Hound,” Arya explained.

“He’s alive?!” Sansa gasped.

“I doubt it,” Arya explained. 

Sansa’s face fell. “He saved me.”

Arya nodded. “He’d said as much…among other things.”

Sansa looked at her confused.

“A Lannister resides here as well?” Arya asked, changing the subject.

“No, why?” Sansa asked, confused.

“Your ring,” Arya pointed to Sansa’s hand. “You are still married to Tyrion Lannister?”

“No, not for a long time,” Sansa said as she twisted the ring on her finger.

Jon’s hand reached across and rested on Sansa’s stopping her nervous motion.

“We are married,” Jon said as he met Arya’s eyes.

“Give over!” Arya laughed.

But when Sansa, Jon, and Bran all looked at her seriously she started to doubt the joke. Then she noticed his left hand holding Sansa’s; they wore matching rings.

“You and Sansa are…married?” Arya asked, swallowing hard. “For how long?”

“Just under a month,” Sansa explained with a slight smile. It was one thing for Bran, who had proposed the idea to know, it was another for Arya to find out.

“Jon is married to Sansa,” Arya muttered to herself.

“Aye, I am,” Jon said as he let go of Sansa’s hand and sat back in his chair.

“Wow,” Arya gasped. “You two are so different…or maybe were so different…”

“It’s a longer story as well,” Jon said as he stood from his seat and took Arya’s empty plate and placed it by the washing tub.

“You need to sleep,” Sansa said as she rose as well. “I’m sorry to say your old room is a shambles but there are others…”

“Just a bed,” Arya said as she yawned. “All else can be sorted after I have slept for a moon’s cycle.”

The entire table laughed at her joke.

“My old room,” Jon said as he touched Sansa’s back. “It’s clean and empty and I can testify that the bed is comfortable.”

Arya smiled at him. “Thank you.”

Bran called servants waiting outside and they took him to his room while Jon and Sansa walked Arya to his old room.

“Are you both happy?” Arya asked the when they reached the door.

Jon and Sansa looked at each other; neither had thought to ask the question.

“I am,” Jon started.

“As am I,” Sansa said as she took Jon’s hand in hers.

“Then that makes me happy as well,” Arya said with a smile. 

They both hugged and kissed her before she retreated to her room. When the door shut behind her Sansa launched herself into Jon’s arms.

“I couldn’t be happier!” Sansa cried as she kissed the side of his face.

“Agreed,” Jon said with a chuckle as he held her close. “It’s a dream I dared not have.”

Jon planted a loving kiss on her lips and escorted her to their chambers.


	10. 10

“She really did need her sleep,” Sansa said as she watched Arya walk into the Courtyard two days later.

Jon was teaching Sansa how to handle a sword; one of their regular lessons.

“And the great Lady emerges,” Jon called to Arya.

“Feeling better?” Sansa asked as Arya as she approached them.

“Much,” Arya smiled then she looked at Sansa. “Why are you holding a sword?”

“Jon’s been teaching me,” Sansa said as she held up her sword. “He had one made for me.”

“It’s bigger than needle,” Arya said as she looked at the sword closely.

“Sansa is bigger than you,” Jon said as he patted his wife’s back.

“How complimentary,” Sansa smirked at him.

“You know what I mean,” Jon said, embarrassed.

Sansa elbowed him lightly in the ribs.

Arya watched the exchange and secretly smiled to herself.

“So how much do you know?” Arya asked.

Sansa laughed. “Probably less than when I started.”

“Not true,” Jon said as he placed a hand on his hip. “She’s getting better with the footwork.”

“If tripping over my feet is footwork,” Sansa chuckled as she showed Arya her muddied skirt.

“And you haven’t immediately run inside to wash?” Arya asked, surprised.

Jon smirked.

“We’ve changed, Arya,” Sansa said softly. “As have you, I’m sure.”

Arya nodded and looked beyond Sansa to see Jon.

“So how did this...did you...happen?” Arya asked.

“After I was named a Targaryen,” Jon started. “The Queen gave Sansa to Petyr Baelish as a gift for the Knights of the Vale rescuing us.”

“Bran came up with the plan that we should marry,” Sansa explained. “Because we knew that not only was I being handed to Petyr, but Jon was going to be forced to marry as well.”

“To the Dragon Queen?” Arya asked.

“Possibly,” Sansa agreed. “More likely into another family.”

“So we decided that we needed to stop both those events from happening,” Jon explained. “I married Sansa just as Petyr Baelish and the Knights of the Vale were breaking into Winterfell.”

“How dramatic,” Arya said softly.

“It actually was,” Sansa laughed.

“And when they broke in, you were married?” 

“Yes,” Sansa nodded.

“But couldn’t Lord Baelish argue that only vows...?” Arya started.

“We were completely married at that point,” Jon said as he cleared his throat.

“Oh,” Arya said with wide eyes. “Oh, right.”

“Anyways,” Sansa said uncomfortably. “That’s how it happened.”

“And how did the Dragon Queen and Lord Baelish take this news?” Arya asked, happy for the change in topic. Discussing the sex life of Jon and Sansa was not high on her list of things to do.

“We’ve been tasked with making heirs,” Jon said as he wiped his forehead.

“Oh, of...of course,” Arya nodded.

“As quickly as possible,” Sansa added. “Or she’ll say our marriage isn’t valid.”

“And...and how’s it...I mean...”

“I’m not pregnant yet,” Sansa said as she took Jon’s hand in hers. “But, hopefully soon.”

“Good,” Arya said awkwardly.

“Maybe we can practice sometime?” Sansa changed the subject as she played with the sword in her hands. “Once I’m better.”

“Great!” Arya said enthusiastically; happy for the different subject.

“Maybe you can show me what you’ve learned?” Jon asked. “Tomorrow?”

“See if you can keep up with me, you mean?” Arya joked. “I’ve been fighting a lot since it was given to me. Training.”

“Maybe you can teach me some Southern style fighting,” Jon said as he scrubbed his beard.

“Deal,” Arya smiled at the pair of them.


	11. 11

“I think I’m pregnant,” Sansa said one morning as Jon turned half asleep toward her ready to start their usual morning act.

“What?” Jon asked, surprised; suddenly awake.

“I have had an odd stomach for days now,” Sansa said. “Off and on for a couple of weeks really...”

“You didn’t say,” Jon said as he looked her over. “Are you unwell now?”

“Just a bit queasy,” Sansa said. “It might be nothing, but my cycle is due any day now and if it doesn’t happen...”

“We’ve made a babe,” Jon smiled from ear to ear.

“Possibly,” Sansa smiled back at him. “It’ll be another month before we are sure.”

Jon leaned down and kissed her on the lips. 

“What’s that for?” Sansa asked as she looked up at him.

“For...nothing, really,” Jon said with a chuckle. “For thinking it may be true?”

“Possibly,” Sansa said. “Or it could just be last night’s mutton.”

“For weeks?” Jon asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Maybe?” Sansa said with a raised eyebrow. “I just want us to not put all of our eggs in this basket and then be disappointed when my cycle comes and...”

“You’ve been upset the last two months when it arrived,” Jon said as he brushed some hair from her brow. 

“I was hoping it would take quicker,” Sansa said softly.

“So we could stop this?” Jon asked, suddenly sensitive to the fact that his naked body was pressed against her naked body and she may not want that anymore.

“No,” Sansa said as she touched his lips. “Just so we could tell the Dragon Queen and get all her threats off our plates.”

“Aye,” Jon nodded. “That would be good.”

Sansa looked at his messy hair and his scruffy beard and smiled.

“I don’t want to stop this, but if you feel you’ve done your duty until another heir is needed, I do understand,” Sansa said as she watched him carefully.

“You...this...it stopped being a duty a long time ago,” Jon said softly as he lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. “I love you, Sansa.”

Sansa smiled at his ministrations.

“And despite thinking love wasn’t in the cards for me,” Sansa said as he cupped the back of his head and forced him to lower toward her mouth. “I believe I’ve finally found it.”

Jon smiled as their lips touched and kissed her passionately as he rolled on top of her and entered her carefully, slowly, delicately.

They made love painfully slowly that morning, allowing her moans to be drawn out, his skin to get covered in goose flesh, and their bodies to dance as they had learned to do so well. He whispered sweet words in her ear and she gasped naughty things in his. After months of making this situation work, and working very hard to make a baby, it suddenly came together all at once.


	12. 12

“Sansa put that down,” Jon said as he grabbed a basket from her hands and carried it through the courtyard.

“It’s not that heavy,” Sansa noted with a smile. “I’m not an invalid.”

“No, you’re pregnant,” Jon said as he looked over his shoulder to see if anyone was about. “And you need to take care of yourself and the babe.”

“I am,” Sansa said with a chuckle as she walked next to him.

“Why are you here?” Arya asked as she approached them.

“She can’t carry things like this,” Jon said as he held up the basket.

“It’s like he’s never been around a pregnant woman before,” Arya laughed.

“I know!” Sansa chuckled with her.

“I’ve never had a pregnant wife before,” Jon conceded.

“And you are sweet,” Sansa said as she kissed the side of his face.

“Please have one of the maids do this from now on,” Jon said as he looked at her seriously.

“Jon, I…” Sansa argued.

“Sansa…” he warned.

“Fine,” she gave in. 

“I love that you just need to use that voice and she’ll agree,” Arya laughed. “You need to teach me that.”

Everyone laughed at her joke. 

“Is that a raven?” Sansa asked as she pointed to the sky.

Jon and Arya looked as well.

“I think it is,” Arya answered.

“It’s a raven,” Jon said as he watched it land near the Great Hall.

“I better go get it,” Jon said as he handed the basket to Arya.

“Oh great, now I have to carry it?!” Arya scoffed.

“Thanks!” Jon called over his shoulder as he walked quickly toward the Great Hall.

“Do you think it’s from Kings Landing?” Sansa asked Arya. “About the baby?”

“Probably,” Arya said as she started to walk with the baskets. “Come on.”

“Right,” Sansa agreed reluctantly. She followed Arya away and tried to not worry about the raven.


	13. 13

“Are you joking?!” Sansa cried. “Tell me you’re joking!”

“Read it,” Jon said as he handed her the note. 

Sansa snatched the note from him and looked it over.

“Petyr Baelish?!” Arya yelped. “There’s no way!”

“You are not marrying Petyr bloody Baelish!” Sansa snapped. “Jon?”

“She’s not marrying him,” Jon agreed.

“He’s just doing this because he couldn’t marry me,” Sansa explained.

“Bran?” Arya asked as she looked at her very serious-faced brother.

Bran just shook his head in the negative.

“What?” Sansa asked.

“He saw this,” Meera explained. “After you and Jon married…it was a vision.”

“What?!” Jon snapped as he turned on his brother.

“Not all visions come true,” Bran explained. “I was hoping this wasn’t the case.”

“But you didn’t say?!” Sansa asked.

“I didn’t want you to worry, and it was done already,” Bran said.

“We need to think,” Jon said as he took the paper from Sansa. “They said she’s to arrive within two months for the wedding.”

“She’s not going anywhere near Kings Landing,” Sansa said as she wrapped an arm around her sister’s waist.

“She needs to make a show of leaving or they send dragons, possibly armies,” Jon said. “But she’s not marrying him.”

“Well, I’m glad we agree on that!” Sansa said assuredly.

“What can we do to stop this?” Bran asked. “Baelish is going to get his Stark girl one way or the other.”

“He waited until I was pregnant,” Sansa said softly. “So I couldn’t go back on my marriage with Jon and…”

“I wouldn’t allow that,” Arya said as she grabbed her sister’s arm. 

“Now it’s not a choice,” Jon said softly as he looked between the sisters. “Not that I would have given Sansa up.”

Sansa smiled at him and Arya dropped her arm.

“So what do we do?” Arya asked.

“We leave as if to complete the deal,” Jon said. “But we have two choices after that, we either put you on the next ship as far away from Westeros as possible…”

“But I just got my family back,” Arya sighed.

“Or we can do what Sansa and I did, marry you off to someone else so you aren’t available to marry Petyr Baelish when we arrive to King’s Landing.”

“She’s just a girl…” Sansa implored.

“She’s old enough,” Jon said. “And would you rather we choose her husband or she married Baelish?”

“I’m not marrying that man!” Arya yelled.

“Then we need a husband for you,” Bran said. “Any Lords in the North have sons that would be a good match or…?”

“What if I was already married?” Arya asked, wide-eyed.

“Are you?!” Sansa asked, surprised.

“No, but they don’t know that,” Arya said.

“Who’s the lucky man?” Jon asked with a smirk.

Arya looked between the two of them. She knew the name on her tongue but wasn’t sure if she could say it aloud. She knew that he would marry her and help her, if they could just find him.

“Arya?” Sansa asked.

“Gendry,” Arya said softly.

“Gendry of which House?” Jon asked interested.

“At the time I knew him he was a blacksmith and not from a noble house, but I came to understand that he was Robert Baratheon’s bastard son,” Arya explained. “So he’d be Waters.”

“And where is this man? Why him?” Bran asked.

“I don’t…I don’t know where he is” Arya explained. “Last time I knew his whereabouts he was with the Red Witch. And as for why him…he and I were mates. We got in well, and I’d rather marry him than anyone else. ”

“The Red Witch is in the Iron Islands last I heard,” Jon explained.

“So you propose we look for him in the Iron Islands on our way to Kings Landing?” Jon asked “You’re sure he’s the one? That he’ll marry you?”.

“Yes, he will,” Arya said. “ Gendry would do this for me. If we leave now, we’ll get there…”

“This is a fools errand,” Jon said as he rubbed at his beard. “What if he’s no longer with her? What if…?” 

“Then I marry someone else, if we don’t find him,” Arya said as she looked between her siblings. “I won’t marry Peter Baelish. I’ll leave before I do that.”

“We send a note saying you’re coming but give no other details,” Bran explained. “Then if you are married to this Gendry fellow, that’s what you announce, and if you aren’t…”

“I either leave or pick up some bloke but the side of the road…” Arya answered.

“Arya!” Sansa chided.

“Well, what do you want me to say?” Arya snapped.

“Arya and I try and find this Gendry fellow on the way to Kings Landing and if we don’t…” Jon started.

“If we don’t, we decide what to do,” Arya said as she looked at Jon.

“Agreed?” Jon asked his wife and Bran.

“Agreed,” Sansa and Bran said at the same time.

“We leave tomorrow,” Jon said.


	14. 14

Jon and Arya had been on the road for weeks and, as they approached the Iron Isles, Jon became more and more convinced that this was a bad idea.  
“What if he’s already married or involved with someone?” Jon asked Arya as they rode.  
“Then we’ll have to figure something else out,” Arya sighed; this had become a trying conversation.  
“But…” Jon started.  
“Why do you wear a wedding ring?” Arya asked Jon, changing the subject.  
Jon looked down at his gloved hand before he answered.  
“Sansa needed to know that this marriage was different from the others,” Jon said honestly. “That I was different from Ramsay in particular.”  
“She won’t speak about him,” Arya said as she looked to Jon for answers.  
Jon said nothing for a long while and Arya was just about to talk about where they should camp for the night when he spoke suddenly.  
“He was abusive,” Jon said through gritted teeth. “Incredibly abusive toward her.”  
Arya nodded. She’d already gathered that much information on her own. Apparently, Jon was not going to be forthcoming with more.  
Jon suddenly stopped his horse and Arya went a couple of paces before she could stop hers and maneuver it back so she was beside him.  
“Jon?”  
“Arya, you must not ask her about him again,” Jon said as he met her eyes. “He physically abused her, emotionally abused her, and sexually abused her. She was in one of the worst situations a woman could ever find herself in. He was a monster.”  
Arya swallowed hard. She had encountered such men in her travels but, luckily, not been abused by them.  
“Well, he’s dead now,” Arya said reassuringly.  
“Sansa killed him,” Jon explained. “I almost did…but she needed to decide his fate, not me.”  
Arya looked at him surprised. She didn’t know this part of the story.  
“How…how did she kill him?” Arya asked, needing to know.  
“She set his own dogs on him and watched as they tore him apart,” Jon said, a shiver seeming to run up his spine with the words.  
“Oh,” Arya gasped. That was not what she expected.  
Jon and she just sat with the information for a few moments before he spoke.  
“So she needed to know that I would never abuse her like he did,” Jon said softly. “That she was my equal, that she married me as much as I married her.”  
“And that you love her,” Arya said softly.  
“I didn’t love her like that when we married,” Jon admitted. “But now I do.”  
Arya smiled at Jon. He had explained a lot about her sister with just a few words and all the pieces of why Sansa was so happy with him and changed had come together.  
“I’m happy you did,” Arya smiled at him.  
“So am I,” Jon smiled back.


	15. 15

“I don’t know who you speak of,” Melisandre said as she walked about the room.  
“You know exactly…” Arya snapped at her.  
Jon placed a hand on Arya’s arm and stopped her from going further.  
“When you left Castle Black you were in search of another that the Lord of the Light had told you about,” Jon explained.  
“Who is to say that I found him?” Melisandre asked as she poured herself a cup of tea.  
“You always find the man you are looking for,” Jon said as he looked at her pointedly.  
“The Lord of the Light…”  
“I’m sick of all this Lord of the Light…” Arya huffed.  
“The Lord of the Light directed you to Robert Baratheon’s bastard son,” Jon said, stepping toward her. “We have a proposal that will only enhance your cause.”  
Melisandre raised an eyebrow and looked at him.  
“He should marry a Stark,” Jon said. “It will place him in a better position for whatever plans you have.”  
Mellisandre laughed.  
“What better endorsement then that of the North?” Jon asked.  
“And what do you get from this deal?” Melisandre asked.  
“The Dragon Queen has given Arya to Petyr Baelish and I mean to stop that,” Jon explained.  
Melisandre nodded but said nothing.  
“Come on, Jon,” Arya said. “We’ll just look for him ourselves. We don’t need this witch!”  
Jon placed a strong hand on her shoulder to silence his sister.  
“Stay with me tonight, as my guests, while I think about this proposal,” Melisnadre said. “I will have to ask the Lord of the Light about it as well.”  
Jon nodded and looked at Arya. She nodded as well.  
“We’d need a decision by this time tomorrow,” Jon said before he escorted Arya out of the room.


	16. 16

They had dined with Mellisandre and listened to her talk of The Lord of the Light for hours. Jon had been patient and Arya vexed. Mellisandre was just stalling, they both knew it. They’d have to look for Gendry on their own; she probably had no idea where he even was!

Arya tossed and turned in her bed that night unable to fall asleep.

“Would you please just stop moving?” Jon asked her from his side of the bed.

He insisted she not stay alone with Mellisandre about. So they shared a room that night despite the lewd remarks from the guards in the hallway.

“She’s a right cow,” Arya said as she stared up at the ceiling.

“You didn’t make the situation any better,” Jon said from his spot on the bed, his back to her.

“Gendry is somewhere in this city,” Arya said with a huff.

“Arya, maybe…” Jon started.

“Don’t say it,” she cut him off.

“You don’t even know if he’ll marry you,” Jon sighed.

“He’ll marry me if I have to threaten him with…”

“And that’s a great way to start a marriage,” Jon hissed.

“You fucked Sansa in front of people, was that a great way to…?”

“Stop it!” Jon said with venom. “Just because you are upset, there’s no reason to make everyone else around you so.”

“I’m sorry,” Arya sighed.

Jon made a very Northern sounding grunt.

“I really am,Jon,” Arya insisted as she rolled to face his back. “You and Sansa seemed quite happy and…”

“Shhh,” Jon hissed as she watched him maneuver from the bed and start to draw longclaw.

Arya watched with wide eyes as a shadow made its way across their balcony. She too got out of the bed and grabbed for needle so she too was at the ready. 

The shadow darted toward one of the doors and then stopped suddenly.

“Arya?” It asked.

The voice was strange, but there was a moment when it was familiar.

“Don’t take another step,” Jon warned with his sword raised.

“I’m looking for Arya Stark,” the voice said.

“I’m Arya Stark,” Arya said as she walked to the dying fire and lit a torch.

“What do you want with her?” Jon asked.

“It’s me, Arya,” the voice said. “Gendry.”

Arya lifted the torch to his face and gasped. It was Gendry, her Gendry standing right there!

“Gendry!” Arya gasped as she threw herself into his arms.

Jon lowered his sword and picked up the torch Arya had dropped.

“Why are you sneaking into her room in the middle of the night?” Jon asked.

“Who are you?” Gendry asked as he eyed Jon.

“This is my brother Jon…well, cousin technically,” Arya explained.

“And you and he share a bed?” Gendry asked, upset.

“I didn’t trust Mellisandre,” Jon explained. “I’m married to Arya’s sister.”

“It’s not like your thinking,” Arya explained. “He’s my brother. ”

“And why were you sneaking into a lady’s room in the dead of night?” Jon asked with edge.

“I heard from the horsemen Arya Stark was here,” Gendry explained. “They didn’t mention a man with her. ”

“Well, I’m here also.” Jon huffed. “Are you staying here?”

“Mellisandre has me here performing duties for her Lords of the Light,” Gendry explained.

“Well, you’re coming with us,” Arya said.

“Why?” Gendry asked. “Is the best job I’ve had. I’m will fed, I have a nice room…”

“You get to fuck a beautiful woman,” Jon supplied.

“What?” Arya asked as she looked to Gendry who was looking anywhere but at her.

“That’s one of your duties, isn’t it?” Jon asked. “Besides sacrificing the odd goat.”

Gendry said nothing.

“Well, you don’t have to do that any more,” Arya said with conviction. “You’re coming with us and…”

“I just wanted to see you Arya, I’m not asking to leave,” Gendry said as he looked to her.

“But why would you want to stay and…?”

“What can the rest of the world do for me? At least here I’m protected and…”

“We need you to marry Arya,” Jon said interrupting him.

“Jon!” Arya hissed.

“What?” Gendry asked.

“She’s been promised to…” Jon continued despite Arya’s glare.

“Stop now!” Arya commanded.

Jon did stop. He walked toward the balcony so Arya could explain herself.

“I need to marry before we arrive at King’s Landing or I’ll be married by the Dragon Queen to Lord Baelish a snake and brothel owner. ”

“Arya!” Gendry gasped as he looked down at her.

“I thought you….but now you seem….and maybe I’ve been thinking what wasn’t…” Arya stammered. Suddenly no words that came from her mouth made sense.

“Will you marry her to keep her from this fate?” Jon asked pointedly.

“Gendry, I’m sorry if….” Arya started then stopped. She felt like such a girl in that moment.

“Of course,” Gendry said, looking at Jon and not her. “But we’ll need to escape from…”

“I gathered that,” Jon said as he looked down from the balcony into the garden.

“Does she know you’re here?” Jon asked. “Are you supposed to be with her right now?”

“No, tonight is her regular night with the fires,” Gendry explained. “Something to do with the moon.”

“I think we can lower down to the gardens,” Jon explained. “Could you get us out from there?”

“Yes,” Gendry said.

Gendry walked out onto the balcony and lowers the rope he had climbed to get there. He went down and waited for them to join him.

“Jon maybe….” Arya said as he helped her get ready to climb down.

“There’s no changing your mind now Arya,” Jon said to her. “You’ve found yourself a husband. ”

Arya took a deep breath and started to climb down to Gendry.


	17. 17

“Do you, Arya Stark take this man...?” Jon started.

“Jon, we don’t actually have to handfast, we have to just pretend we’re...”

“You have to sleep with him, and I’m not having my sister...” Jon interrupted.

“I thought we were just pretending...” Gendry interrupted.

“Marriage means marriage,” Jon sighed. “Do you two not understand that?”

“But I thought...” Arya scoffed.

“Do you want to marry Petyr Baelish?” Jon asked her pointedly.

“No!” Arya yelled.

“Do you want her married to the owner of a brothel?” Jon asked Gendry.

“Gods no!” 

“Then you need to be hand fast!” Jon cried exhausted.

Gendry and Arya looked at each other and said nothing.

“Do you Arya Stark take this man as your husband?” Jon asked.

“I do?” Arya mumbled.

“Who takes this woman as his wife?” Jon asked, annoyed with Arya.

“I do,” Gendry said.

“You both agree to be hand fast?” Jon asked, bothered by them both.

“I do,” the both said at once.

“You are hand fast,” Jon said as he clasped their hands together and sighed. “Congratulations.”

Arya looked toward Gendry; he nodded and stepped toward her and kissed her quickly on the lips.

They had travelled for over a week together and as they got closer to King’s Landing Jon knew they finally needed to be hand fast. He had been avoiding it as long as possible but at some point he needed to let Arya get married. 

Gendry had proven to be a trustworthy lad, getting them away from Mellisandre and safely on the way to King’s Landing. He obviously cared for Arya but had acted strangely around her since they’d left the Witch.

“I’ll camp over the ridge tonight,” Jon said as he walked away from them.

Arya and Gendry just watched him silently as he got his horse ready and started to mount it.

“Jon, I don’t think that it’s...” Arya 

“You need to consummate the union,” Jon said not looking at them. “We can’t have gone to all this trouble for nothing.”

“Jon, I...” Gendry started.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” Jon said before he coaxed his horse away and left them alone.


	18. 18

"So, you’ve been staying on your own for a long time?” Gendry asked as they both sat awkwardly in front of the fire. It had been over an hour since Jon had left, night had fallen and they’d grown more and more uncomfortable with each other.

“This is ridiculous!” Arya finally snapped. “Just pull it out and do what you need to do!”

Gendry watched her unbuckle her belt, lay it to the side, slide off her tunic and start to pull her blouse out of her breaches before he clued into what she was doing.

“Arya!” He yelled standing and stopping her hand from further pulling out her blouse.

“What?!” Arya snapped, her face suddenly red.

“Are you still a maid?” Gendry asked, half hoping the answer was ‘no’ and their problem was solved. She was a girl of 18 now, it was possible…

“Would I be telling you to do this if I wasn’t?” Arya asked meeting his eyes.

“I just thought…maybe in front of Jon, you’d say you were, when you mightn’t not be,” Gendry stammered.

“Well, I won’t be a maid for long if you start undressing,” Arya said, trying to deflect his question and probing eyes.

“This isn’t how you should be bed,” Gendry said as he dropped Arya’s hand and stepped back from her.

“But it is how I will be bed,” Arya said as she finished pulling out her shirt. “Don’t…don’t worry about me Gendry. I appreciate you doing this for me and…”

“Arya, stop!” Gendry said forcefully.

“Wha…?”

“I’m sorry I slept with her,” Gendry said softly. “I’m sorry you now have to bed me, after you know this about me, and I’m sorry…”

“Just stop!” Arya said as she whacked him hard on the arm. “I don’t like that you slept with that horrible woman, I won’t lie. But as long as you promise to not embarrass me by taking another woman…”

“I wouldn’t…I won’t,” Gendry said as he grabbed her by the arms. 

“Then we’re settled,” Arya said as she stepped toward him.

Gendry’s pulse raced and he felt his palms start to sweat.

“Arya, I don’t know how to…” Gendry started.

“Just do what you need to…” Arya started.

Gendry leaned forward and kissed her soundly on the lips. Arya responded to his kiss and found herself falling against his chest and feeling the press of him against her. Gendry ran his hands through her hair and together they slowly lowered down onto their knees where they kissed further. 

He felt her breasts pressed against him and she felt his member twitching against her leg. Slowly, he lifted her blouse up her body and threw it to the ground, his followed, then their breaches and finally their small clothes until she was naked below him and his member was pressing against her opening, coaxing it to let him in.

“This may…this may hurt,” Gendry warned as he slowly made his way inside.

Arya nodded her head and closed her eyes as the pain started to build. She thought that it couldn’t be worse than any of the injuries she’d suffered in the past. Until the pain totally hit her.

“Owwww!” Arya yelled as she pulled her body back from his.

“I’m sorry,” Gendry apologized as he looked down at her pained face.

Arya nodded her head from side to side and then looked into his eyes. 

“Go on,” she said as she braced herself.

“I don’t think…” Gendry stammered.

“You must,” Arya implored as tears formed in her eyes.

Gendry nodded and pushed quickly into her as she bit hard on her hand to muffle her scream.

“God’s Arya, I’m so…” Gendry apologized as she felt his release inside of her.

Arya turned her head to the side and wiped at her tears. 

“Arya, I…” Gendry started.

“I’m fine,” Arya said as she wiped her nose. “It’s fine.”

“It’s not,” Gendry said as he pulled out from her and reached for his shirt to cover her. “It’s not right at all.”

Arya turned to the side and pulled her legs up; she felt Gendry tuck the shirt around her body protectively. 

“I’m so sorry Arya,” Gendry said as he patted her head. 

Arya said nothing to him for a long time. She finally wiped her eyes, and sat up wrapping Gendry’s shirt around her body. 

“What can I do to help you?” Gendry asked. “You’re the first maid I’ve…”

“I need a drink,” Arya said. 

She watched Gendry get up quickly and bring her a skin of wine. 

A shiver ran down her spine as their hands touched and she pulled back quickly.

“Do you want me to get your brother?” Gendry asked, worry caking his words.

“No!” Arya snapped. “I’m fine, I just need a minute.”

Gendry nodded and sat down next to her, their hips touching. 

“It’s my understanding that it doesn’t hurt after the first time,” Gendry said as he took the skin from her. 

“I don’t plan on doing that again,” Arya said as she rose to her feet and looked around for her clothes. “The kissing was good, but that last bit…no.”

“Oh,” Gendry sighed.

Arya looked at his face and felt badly. He’d given up bedding the Witch to marry her and now she wasn’t going to bed him again.

“It…it doesn’t always hurt like that?” Arya asked.

“No,” Gendry said. “There wouldn’t be babies, otherwise.”

Arya laughed at his words and then suddenly felt sick as she clamped a hand over her stomach. “Oh gods, a babe.”

“I don’t think it happens that quickly,” Gendry said as he looked at her horrified face.

“What else can one do to avoid them? If she was going to try this again?” Arya asked, somewhat embarrassed.

“I can spill outside of you,” Gendry said as he watched her wince as she pulled on her small clothes. “Or there’s up the arse…”

“The arse?!” Arya snapped. “No bloody way!”

Gendry laughed at her reaction. “It is a method, but one I’ve never…”

“And you never bloody will!” Arya snapped as she pulled her own blouse over her head.

Gendry laughed. “I just said it to see your reaction.”

Arya reached for her breaches and whacked him hard on the head.

“Ow!” Gendry said as he grabbed his head.

“Now we’re both sore,” Arya said happily.

“Arya, if you never mean to do that again, that’s okay,” Gendry said honestly.

“I’ll have to think on it,” Arya said as she tied up her breaches.

Gendry then stood and touched her cheek.

“But you liked the kissing?” He asked.

She felt her face grow hot and Arya looked anywhere but at him.

“I did,” she admitted.

“Then that’s a start,” Gendry said as he leaned down and kissed her softly on the lips.


	19. 19

Arya walked gingerly to her horse thinking that there was a reason why there was never a horse at a brothel. Women who fucked did not ride horses. Just the thought of getting on it made pain shoot through her nether regions.

After the act, the pain, the general embarrassment of it all, Gendry had made things nice. They drank, they kissed, and she’d fallen asleep with his arms wrapped around her. It was not anything close to a perfect bedding, but in the end, it had been salvaged.

Jon would be back any moment and Arya wondered if her brother would look at her any differently; if he’d even look at her at all. Jon may technically be their cousin but Arya could never think of him as anything but her brother, even if he was married to Sansa.

She regretted sending Sansa away when she wanted to talk with Arya about bedding before they left. Arya had dismissed her and said she knew what needed to be done. Now, as her lady parts throbbed, Arya wondered if Sansa could have told her how to make it feel better.

Arya winced slightly as she reached for her bed roll.

“Could you try and not do that around Jon?” Gendry asked her, worried.

“You did this to me!” Arya snapped as him as she clasped the roll in her hand.

“And I’m sorry for it, but Jon...”

“Jon what?” Arya asked.

“He said if I hurt you, he’d hurt me ten fold,” Gendry said honestly. “And he meant it.”

Arya laughed. Of course her brother had threatened Gendry with bodily harm if he hurt her in any way. And, by the worried expression on Gendry’s face Jon’s warning had been quite clear.

“I’ll try, but it bloody hurts, and how I can possibly ride...”

“Maybe our blankets under you while you’re in the saddle?” Gendry offered, trying to help.

“It may help,” Arya said with a slight smile. “Thank you.”

“Arya, I’m so sorry,” Gendry said as he cupped her cheek.

“I know,” Arya said softly as she looked up at him. “I just need a day or two and then I’ll be fine.”

“Has the bleeding, at least, stopped?” Gendry asked, concerned.

“It has,” Arya said softly, liking his hand on her cheek. “It’s just throbbing now.”

They heard a throat clear at the edge of the clearing and both turned to see Jon standing there with his horse looking uncomfortable.

“Jon!” Arya greeted him as she stepped away from Gendry’s hand.

“Are you ready to leave?” Jon asked as he looked carefully at Arya for signs of trauma.

“Just packing up,” Arya said as she fixed her horses reigns and caught a wince before Jon could see it.

Jon tied it horse to a tree and walked toward her with conviction.

“Are you okay?” Jon asked her, concerned.

“Of course I am,” Arya smiled at him dismissively.

Jon looked at her carefully and, satisfied with her answer, handed her something in a sack.

“Sansa told me to give this to you...after,” Jon said, not meeting her eyes.

Arya looked at the sack confused, and opened it to find a letter and a small jar of paste. She read the note to herself.

Arya,

I know you wanted me to think you’d be fine with the bedding but I had to send this with Jon just in case. I know you understand the act of bedding, but I’m not sure you comprehend the pain that can be involved in the first time you’re taken. I tried to speak with you about this but you dismissed me. I’m hoping it went better for you than it did for me (I was in pain for a week and Ramsay didn’t leave me alone one night). A kind Maester sent me this paste which brought me a great deal of relief. I have now sent it to you in hopes you actually don’t need it. 

Please tell your husband that you need at least a week to heal from the first time before he tries to bed you again. If he is unclear on this, Jon will make it perfectly clear to him for you. Spread the paste in a thin coat on the areas that throb morning and evening. It will help enormously. As will warm rocks wrapped in blankets and a cool bath in a stream. 

Know that bedding gets much more pleasant with time, with trust, and with love. The first act, even the first dozen acts, are not representative of the rest of your days. Take time to get to know each other and what you both like. If he fails to understand that you don’t wish to do anything, Jon has been instructed to beat this understanding into him. 

Welcome to womanhood my dear sister, I hope you enjoy it with your husband as I have with Jon.

Love,  
Sansa

Arya couldn’t help the water that formed in her eyes. Her sister was a wonderful person, helping her even when Arya had been unkind to her. She wiped at a stray tear and folded the letter up tucking it into her breastplate.

“Arya, are you truly alright?” Jon asked as he placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Sansa is lovely,” Arya said softly before she turned to leave the pair of them.

“Where is she off to?” Gendry asked, confused.

“I’m not sure,” Jon said as he watched her disappear into the wood. “You were kind to her?”

Gendry looked at Jon’s threatening eyes and nodded his head slightly.

“And it is done?” Jon confirmed.

Gendry again nodded slowly.

Jon took a deep breath and sighed, his eyes never leaving the spot Arya had disappeared from.

“You are not to bother her for two weeks,” Jon said clearly. Sansa had told him to tell Gendry one week, but Jon didn’t think adding some time was such a horrible thing.

“Uh, of...of course,” Gendry said quickly. 

“And you won’t spill in her until she wants a babe,” Jon said.

“Sure,” Gendry nodded.

“You won’t humiliate her by taking any other woman to your bed,” Jon said, adding to the ‘rules’ Sansa had wanted him to say. She’s given him only two, Jon meant to add to the list.

“I wouldn’t,” Gendry said.

“I don’t know what sort of bed games the Witch had you involved in,” Jon started.

“Jon, I...”

“But you won’t try any of those things with my sister,” Jon said as his eyes finally left the wood where Arya disappeared and looked at Gendry with conviction.

“No,” Gendry swallowed hard. “Of course not.”

“Finally, if you raise a hand to her, or take her without her wanting it, you will answer to me, understood?” Jon said with edge in his voice.

“Understood,” Gendry nodded solemnly.

Jon clapped Gendry on the back and smiled at him.

“You seem a good man, and I think you will make her happy,” Jon said conversationally.

Gendry, surprised by the change in mood, could only look at Jon flabbergasted.

Just then, Arya emerged from the woods with a smile on her face.

“I love my sister,” she said with a sigh as she looked at her dumbfounded and deathly pale husband, and her smiling brother.


	20. 20

“They are going to be pissed,” Arya said as they sat on their horses looking down at King’s Landing.

It had been three weeks since she had wed Gendry and now they had finally arrived.

“They already hate the Starks,” Jon said as he looked out onto the City in the distance.

“Well now they are going to hate the men who married them as well,” Gendry said as he looked toward Arya.

She smiled at him; their existence with each other had gotten easier in the last few weeks and she felt they would make a nice go of it. There second try at bedding had gone better than the first, and Arya, although she hadn’t enjoyed it, had not felt any pain. It was a start.

“We’ll stay here tonight and make our way into the city tomorrow,” Jon said as he eyed their surroundings. “They’ll probably arrest us at the gates.”

Arya and Gendry nodded and got down off their horses and made camp for the night with Jon.

“Do you want a boy or a girl?” Arya asked Jon as they sat around the fire later that night.

“Honestly, I don’t care,” Jon said as he met her eyes. “Mother and child both safe and healthy is all I ask.”

“She must be quite large by now,” Arya said as she watched Jon. She could tell he missed Sansa enormously and being around she and Gendry didn’t help.

“Probably,” Jon chuckled. “And cursing herself for getting that way.”

Arya laughed with him; it was a very much like Sansa.

“You and Lady Stark married for obligation,” Gendry said as he looked at Jon. “And now you are quite fond of each other.”

“We love each other,” Jon said as he met the man’s eyes. “Something I hope will be the case for you and Arya in the future.”

“I think Gendry and I should get rings like you and Sansa,” Arya said as she eyed her husband.

“Why do you wear a ring?” Gendry asked, curious.

“To show Sansa, and the rest of the world, that we are equals,” Jon said.

“But you are the man...” Gendry noted.

“What’s that got to do with it?!” Arya snapped.

“The man is the one who is in charge and...”

“Not in Stark marriages!” Arya snapped again.

“What?” Gendry asked, surprised.

“It’s a Stark tradition that a wife and husband are equal, none above the other,” Arya said as she eyed Jon to not disagree. It was, in no way, a Stark tradition but Gendry didn’t have to know that. She was going to be her husband’s equal not just some agreeable wife.

Gendry looked toward Jon for confirmation.

“Aye, it is,” Jon nodded, helping Arya with her lie. “I’m the only one who did the ring but...”

“Great uncle Harold wore a ring as well as his wife,” Arya noted.

“I hadn’t noticed,” Jon said as he twisted the ring on his finger. He missed Sansa and hated travelling with newlyweds. He knew why they both went to collect berries a few days ago; they were gone for a long time, and both came back looking guilty. Jon was just grateful that they went far enough away that he didn’t need to hear anything.

“Would you wear my ring?” Arya asked Gendry.

“I don’t think I’d like wearing a ring,” Gendry admitted.

“Fine,” Arya huffed. “But we’re still equals.”

Gendry looked at her and nodded in agreement. Jon wondered how long it would be, after they were back at Winterfell, before he realized the Stark tradition Arya had spoken of was an invention of hers.

“I’ll be off to bed,” Jon said as he rose from the log he was seated on. “We’ve got a long day tomorrow.”

“Good night Jon,” Arya and Gendry said in unison as they watched him walk away from the fire and toward his bed roll by the edge of the clearing. 

He’d been good about giving them time alone each day to talk together and spend time just the two of them. 

“What do you hope to do at Winterfell when we get back?” Arya asked Gendry.

“I’m a good blacksmith,” Gendry noted. “I guess that.”

Arya nodded.

“What do you do at Winterfell?” Gendry asked.

“I wasn’t there long before I came to get you,” Arya said. “I helped Sansa, sparred with Jon, talked with Bran...”

“So, nothing in particular?” Gendry asked.

“No, nothing in particular,” Arya sighed sadly.

“What would you like to do?” Gendry asked.

“Finish my list,” Arya said plainly.

“List?” Gendry asked, curious.

“I have a list of people I need to kill,” Arya said seriously.

“And how many have you managed?” Gendry joked.

“Two,” Arya said seriously. “Some more from the list have died, but not by my hand.”

“You’ve executed two people?” Gendry asked, laughing.

“I have,” Arya said solemnly. “I’m being serious, Gendry.”

“Oh, wow,” Gendry sighed.

“Mellisandre is still on it, if you must know,” Arya noted. “I was just more focused on getting you out of there. But she’ll get her time.”

“Arya, you know you can’t just go around executing people because they are on a list, right?”

“I have and I will,” Arya said with certainty. 

Gendry looked at her confused and then decided he needed to end this ridiculous conversation. Arya was not going around the countryside killing people. 

“Are you coming to bed?” He asked as he stood and stretched.

“To sleep I am,” Arya said as she too rose and walked away from the fire a little.

“It’s our last night before...” Gendry started.

“And my brother is snoring across the way,” Arya whispered as she heard Jon’s soft snores in the distance.

“We can be quiet,” Gendry said as he he touched her hip.

Arya looked between Jon and Gendry for a bit. Jon was obviously sound asleep, and Gendry was right about it being their last night...

“Silent,” Arya said as she lay down on her bed roll, pulled up the blanket and undid her breaches. 

Gendry slid in behind her and listened to Jon’s even snores. He was definitely asleep. Undoing his own pants and small clothes Gendry took Arya by the hip and started to move forward toward her now bare nether regions.

“If you try and put that up my ass...” Arya warned him.

“No, just from behind, but nothing to do with your ass,” Gendry said clearly as he chuckled. He ran his hands up her shirt and started to massage her breasts. Arya quite liked it when he did that and always hoped he would spend more time on them then he did.

Arya was still tense as he found her opening and started to slide inside her. It wasn’t until he was fully sheathed that she relaxed. He pumped inside of her underneath the blanket and, to his credit, made no noise except for a small gasp as he pulled out from her and spilled his seed on the ground next to him. 

“It’s getting better?” Gendry asked as he attempted to clean up the mess and Arya pulled up her breaches.

“It doesn’t hurt,” Arya said softly. 

“Well, that’s a start,” Gendry smiled down as her before hauling up his own breaches and pulling her body against his to sleep. 

Arya had to admit, she did like sleeping with him this way. His breathing would eventually even and they would inhale and exhale at the exact same time, There was something incredibly comforting about that.


	21. 21

“And you come here to tell me you have disobeyed my command yet again?” Daenerys Targaryen asked her nephew.

They had been escorted to the Queen as soon as they had entered King’s Landing, not arrested as Jon had suspected would be the case.

“No disobeyed, my Queen,” Jon said with a bowed head. “The command was impossible to fulfill. Arya was already wed to Gendry Baratheon.”

“Baratheon, is it?” Daenery’s asked with a raised eyebrow.

“He’s the son of Robert Baratheon, one Cersai Lannister failed to have killed like the others,” Jon said as he watched the Queen carefully.

“A Baratheon stole the throne from my father,” she noted as the eyed Gendry.

“And he is no threat to your place on the throne,” Jon said as he watched Littlefinger walk into the chamber in which they were speaking.

“I hear I am out yet another bride?” Littlefinger asked as he approached them.

“Why are you here?” Daenerey’s asked him annoyed. 

“I heard that my bride-to-be had arrived and...”

“I didn’t call for you, leave now,” Daenerys commanded.

“Of course, my Queen,” Littlefinger said surprised.

Daenerys watched him leave and indicated that she wanted to speak with Jon privately. He walked to her solar with her and waited for her to speak; he wasn’t sure what to expect given her mood.

“They were married?” Daenerys asked as she sat heavily on a sofa.

“I handfast them myself,” Jon said.

“It had to be a Baratheon?” She asked, with a raised eyebrow.

“They care for each other,” Jon said as he waited for her to get angry.

“Gods, what am I going to do now?” Daenerys asjed herself more than him.

“I’m sorry, my Queen?” Jon asked.

“I promised him the Neck and a Stark bride or he would stay as my Master of Coin,” Daenerys sighed as she looked at her nephew.

“Oh,” Jon said as he too sat down.

“Now I’m stuck with that puppeteer on my council, he’ll turn them against me and...”

“Where’s Tyrion?” Jon asked, suddenly realizing that her Hand was missing.

“His brother is quite ill,” Daenerys said. “He’s gone to him to help, or say goodbye or...I’m not sure.”

Jon just sat with her and waited for her to continue.

“I hadn’t realized how much I relied on his advice,” she said as she massaged her forehead.

Jon sat and thought about the situation.

“He has to be Master of Coin?”

“That’s the title I promised,” Daenerys said as she met his eyes.

“Couldn’t you just have him killed?”

“His Knights are surprisingly loyal,” Daenerys said. “They'd rise up against me. I think it’s all the whores he provides them.”

They both sat in silent thought for quite some time.

“What about sending him to survey the Kingdom?” Jon asked.

“As Master of Coin?” Daenerys asked with a raised eyebrow.

“To see where there is need in your land, advise you of it, and provide coin as you deem necessary,” Jon said, his face brightening. “That gets him away from your council and he keeps the title.”

“That’s brilliant!” Daenerys laughed as she hugged him.

“I think it’ll work,” Jon said as he hugged her back.

Daenerys eyed him for a moment before she spoke again.

“Jon, I need to ask something of you,” she said hesitantly. “I need you to stay on here with me at King’s Landing as an advisor. I don’t trust anyone except Tyrion and he’s gone.”

Jon had just been thinking of how long it would be before he would be back at Winterfell when his bubble burst with those words.

“Sansa is with child,” he said.

“And she’ll understand that you are needed here for the time being,” Daenerys implored.

She watched his face drop and decided to give him some time to think.

“You and she are happy?”

“We are,” Jon nodded.

“Was this relationship going on before?” She asked. “I didn’t have any reports that there was a relationship.”

“It started the day we wed,” Jon admitted.

“And quite dramatically from what Littlefinger said,” she smiled at him.

“Aye, it was,” Jon sighed.

“I was worried it was going to be in name only,” Daenerys said. “Which is why I sent the raven about children.”

“No, it’s not a marriage in name only,” Jon said softly. “I love her.”

Daenerys smiled at him.

“Then advise me on how to rule until Tyrion returns, give them both a safe Kingdom,” Daenerys urged.

Jon looked up at her and nodded.

“Thank you,” she smiled at him. “I won’t forget this sacrifice.”


End file.
